


You Deserve This Warmth

by Buckysaur



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: (if you squint), Asthma, Bathing/Washing, Budapest, Caretaking, Comfort, Coulson Lives, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Natasha Collects Rubber Duckies, Natasha Is Really Just Very Nice, Sickfic, Tony Doesn't Take Care Of Himself
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-12
Updated: 2013-08-12
Packaged: 2017-12-23 06:01:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/922834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Buckysaur/pseuds/Buckysaur
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Natasha finds someone shivering in the corner of the Avengers' communal kitchen area and decides to take some proper care of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Deserve This Warmth

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [this](http://avengerkink.livejournal.com/17385.html?thread=38087657#t38087657) prompt on avengerkink.

There was something in the corner, and in her mind its presence felt like a sick and wounded animal. She scanned the room, which was void of any of the Avengers (as far as she could tell; Clint _might_ be there, but she didn’t feel that checking for him was a priority right now _–_  she wouldn’t need backup with this) and mostly dark, save for a faintly buzzing light above the stove. Tony had sworn time and time again that he would replace it, but then always put aside for a more technically challenging project than replacing a bulb with one that doesn’t make noises.

Natasha didn’t mind. She found the buzzing oddly comforting. Total silence was harder for her to handle, with too many bad memories of not being allowed to speak or move or breathe or—she shook her head. _Not now, Tash_.

Swiftly brushing her hand past her thigh to check if she had her knives in place, she took a step forward. Paying optimal attention to her senses, she could hear someone shivering. It sounded human. She took another step, lingering in a crouched position just before the end of the wall that was giving her cover. JARVIS hadn’t given any kind of alarm, so either it was one of her teammates, or someone who was allowed into the building.

The possibility of someone that registered in her mind as ‘wounded’ somehow sneaking in seemed nill, if not, in a way, more probable. Desperation sometimes helped people do things they otherwise wouldn’t be able to do.

She pushed the thoughts to the side, letting them linger just in case, but not paying them too much attention. Then, she held her breath and listened.

It was the breath of the person around the corner, sitting in the dark, that finally tipped her off and caused her to spring to her feet. She recognized that light wheeze on every intake. As far as she knew no one else did, perhaps not even the man himself (then again, who was she kidding?), but she had noticed how the Arc Reactor obstructed his lungs and often made it hard for him to breathe.

“Tony?” she asked, walking around the corner, and this time not bothering to make her footsteps quiet. “What’s wrong?”

She crouched down next to the man, who was curled up with a slightly oil stained fleece blanket wrapped tightly around him. His face was pale, but his cheeks were an angry red and she carefully cupped them with her hands, urging him to look up. “Tony? Can you hear me?”

Causes and consequences raced through her head, from alien attacks to nasty lethal viruses to—

“Oh, hey, Nat. I’m fine, just got a cold. I wanted to get some…” His voice trailed off, and for all the world he looked like he had completely forgotten what he wanted to get.

Natasha couldn’t help a small endeared smile from quirking at her lips, although she doubted that anyone but Clint or Phil would have noticed it. She one of her hands slide up to his forehead, which was clammy and felt as if it were burning against her fingers. “You have a nasty fever there, Tony, let’s get you something for that.” She let go of his face and grabbed his arm to help him up and onto a bar stool by the kitchen. “Wait here, don’t fall off,” she told him, after which she rummaged through the kitchen cabinets until she had found a packet of fever reducing pills.

With the pills, some dry crackers and a large glass of cool water in her hands, she walked back to Tony. “Here, eat this. I don’t want you to take these on an empty stomach and get a bug or something.”

Tony scowled at the cracker, but took a bite nevertheless when she held it by his lips. “I’we had wowse on an ewmpty swomach,” he grumbled around the bite while chewing, which she ignored as she fed him another bite, followed by a sip of the water.

When she was satisfied that he had at least eaten _something_ – she didn’t fool herself by hoping he had had anything to eat since she had last seen him at dinner eating healthily, which was two days ago – she refilled the glass with water and gave him that and two of the pills. “Take those, and then I’m going to give you a bath. You have fever sweat all over you, and you’re not gonna pick up any girls that way, are you?” She said it with a smile (although it was more like a smirk), a real, visible, one this time. Tony just glared at her, but he took the pills anyway and threw them back with a few large gulps of water.

Natasha patted his hair, and noticed that that, too, was sweaty. “Come on, to the tub we go,” she announced, almost cheerfully, and helped him off the chair and to the elevator, where she didn’t go up to his penthouse, but down to her own floor.

The fact that he didn’t even notice this until the elevator doors opened, more than anything, showed just how out of it Tony was. He let go of some small noises of protest, but Natasha would have none of it, and within minutes Tony was undressed and sitting in her tub with a collection of themed rubber duckies floating happily around him.

He poked suspiciously at one with a statue of liberty crown, and looked up at her with an expression that could mean anything from ‘you are even more insane than I thought’ to ‘am I hallucinating?’ (or perhaps both at the same time).

“Head back,” Natasha said, tipping his chin up with her index finger. She was kneeling next to the bath tub with bare feet, her sleeves and trouser legs rolled up as to not let them be splattered with water. Tony complied (although he really had no other choice) and Natasha squirted some shampoo from a bottle on the floor into her hands, which she then ran through his hair that she had already rinsed with the shower head.

She massaged his scalp gently, and Tony’s eyes, which had been half closed, opened a bit as he shot her a look of surprise. She flicked his nose with her finger, leaving a bit of foam on the tip. “What? I have to deal with Clint and colds all the time. Do you know what kind of weather conditions he deems as acceptable to sit up on a roof in nothing but shorts and a tank top with his bow?”

Tony had a thoughtful expression for about two seconds, and then chuckled. “No, but I can imagine,” he said; his first real sentence since she’d dragged him out of the communal kitchen and living room area.

They fell into a companionable silence after that, as Natasha continued to massage Tony’s scalp and Tony let his eyes fall shut. Natasha could see his muscles relax a bit as he went a bit limp under her fingers, and after she had rinsed out his hair, careful not to get soap in his eyes, she took some time massaging his shoulders as he leaned against the side of the tub.

When she was done and had taken the plug out of the tub so it could drain she urged him to his feet again so she could rinse any soap residue that was left on his skin off, which he let her do with an almost uncharacteristic amount of compliance. She then helped him out of the tub, holding his arms in her steady grip as to not let him slip, and wrapped him up in thick, fluffy towels.

She rubbed his hair dry and then took him to her bedroom, where she would take no complaints or excuses as she handed him an old shirt and sweatpants from Clint, and made him lie down under three thick layers of blankets.

When he was in the bed, wrapped in and surrounded by warmth and safety, she sat by his side, brushing his hair lightly with her fingers as she told him about Budapest until he fell asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> I went with Natasha mostly to challenge myself a bit, as I'd never written her before and I didn't want to go with an obvious choice for the 'any' who helped Tony :)
> 
> I hope you liked it, OP? (Please leave a comment? ^^)


End file.
